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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29929638">Amelie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_coriander_cadaverish/pseuds/sir_coriander_cadaverish'>sir_coriander_cadaverish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Nimona (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:07:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29929638</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_coriander_cadaverish/pseuds/sir_coriander_cadaverish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Ballister come to hate the Institution where he grew up? Surely there were plenty of reasons. But the biggest one? A girl by the name of Amelie.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ballister Blackheart/Ambrosius Goldenloin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Amelie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>WE GOT A NEW OC BABEYY!! This story's been nagging at me for a long time bc of how important it would've been to Ballister's characterization so I hope u enjoy :))</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In all their years of friendship, Ballister and Ambrosius rarely found themselves befriending many other people at the Institution, primarily due to the fact that most of their classmates were complete jackasses. Of course, there were a few over the years: there was Cesario, for instance, the mildly annoying third-wheeler whose nasally voice had nothing to offer but off-color jokes and probing, insensitive questions; and there was Darren, the shy kid with the massive jew-fro who was nice but admittedly a bit boring, since he only wanted to talk about equine science and spent most days down at the stables. But nobody - truly, nobody - left quite an impact on the boys like Amelie.</p><p> </p><p>Amelie was unique in the fact that she was, for starters, a girl. But more than that, she was a new girl, and a fascinating one at that - she had a iridescent hijab that reflected the sunlight whenever she moved, she had a sweet French accent she'd acquired from growing up in some faraway kingdom, and her smile had a clever, mischevious quality to it, like that of the Gloreth portrait which hung in the great hall. And, just like Ballister, she had a deep interest in mysterious old pieces of literature. Ambrosius wasn't quite too interested in the extensive conversations that Ballister and Amelie had regarding the historical relevance of Gothic poetry, but he was happy to sit in - and the boys would often sneak over to the courtyard behind the Girl's Quarters for a picnic when it wasn't too hot. </p><p>Indeed, the summer that Ballister met Amelie was quite an interesting one, but he'd be the first to tell you that it wasn't an easy one at all.</p>
<hr/><p>It began as afternoon breaks often did for Ballister that year: with a trip to the Boys' Wing bookroom, which was tucked away among the furthest corridors of the building. He took the trip alone, as he usually preferred to do, as the peaceful solitide the bookroom had to offer was (to a small extent) his secret. That day, when Ballister quietly rolled open the door to the bookroom, he was met with bright sunlight, setting floating dust flecks alight. Squinting in the light as he slid the door shut behind him, he suddenly froze - there was someone else in the room. A girl. She was in the corner, her fingers tracing the spines of the old, leathery Classics, and her sparkly hijab shimmered in the sun's rays every time her head moved. She seemed rather focused; she hadn't noticed him yet. Ballister hesitated. Then, after a moment, he remarked, "You can never find anything good in here." </p><p>The second he broke the silence, the girl jumped and whirled around in surprise. "I'm- I'm not doing anything! I have the right to be here, I'm- I'm studying! I have a pass," she stammered, her face flushing. She began to hastily search her pockets for the pass, but Ballister offered her a friendly smile. "Hey, relax," he assured her, "I won't tell." At this, she seemed to relax a little. Approaching her, he extended a hand. "I'm Ballister. 9th year." Cautiously, she took it and shook it firmly. "I'm Amelie. Also a 9th year." After a brief pause, she turned and went back to perusing the shelves, clearly looking for something. </p><p>Ballister leaned against one of the shelves and watched her curiously. "So... you read a lot?" he asked her. She nodded, her hijab twinkling. "Yeah," she said, for the first time offering up a small smile. "I'm a big fan of gothic literature. My old school had a whole section dedicated to it." Ballister lit up immediately. "That's wicked, I love the gothic period too! Have you read anything by Dmitri Deathwood, by any chance?" Amelie nodded enthusiastically. "I am obsessed with Deathwood," she gushed, her voice revealing a bit of an accent, "But the Girls' Wing only has fairy tales." She sighed; Ballister rolled his eyes in sympathy. "Well, the Boys' Wing pretty much only has tales of daring knights and perilous adventures. Gets pretty dull after a while," he said wryly. Amelie grinned. </p><p>"Well, I'm not exactly supposed to be here," she admitted slowly, "But I was hoping you guys had a copy of Frankenstein, so I sort of... snuck in." "That's alright, you can stay here as long as you like. Trust me, nobody ever comes up here except for me," Ballister said. Amelie raised an eyebrow. "Really?" Ballister nodded and said, "Yeah, none of the boys here are huge readers. Well, except for my best friend," he added. "But even he's not up here all that often anymore. Besides, I'll just tell him not to rat you out if he finds you here." Amelie was grateful, then she frowned and said, "But that's sad... y'know, that nobody reads anymore. No wonder the boys act the way they do. No offense," she added quickly. Ballister laughed. "None taken. But think of it this way - the fewer people who read, the more books we'll have to ourselves!"</p><p>Suddenly, they could hear distant bells chiming. "Shoot, I've got to get to class," Ballister admitted, "But it was great meeting you, Amelie. Wanna meet here again, same time tomorrow?" She extended her hand with a smile. "It's a deal." He smiled back and shook it. <em>Huh</em>, Ballister thought to himself as he gathered his books for Biology, <em>She's pretty cool.</em></p><p>And so it went for the next few days: Amelie and Ballister would convene in the bookroom, talk (about school, life, but chiefly about books), and then the bell would toll. On the sixth day, however, Amelie brought up a new topic. </p><p>"So," she said as she lay back on the dusty Persian rug with a raggedy copy of King Lear resting across her stomach, "Do you have any family outside the Institution?" Ballister was surprised; they had never discussed the outside before. "Yeah, I do," he said lightly, "I have a dad." Amelie nodded. "I have an aunt. She lives with us, helps my mother with the kids, tending around the house, that sort of thing. My mother, she, er… She isn't well. Y'know-" Amelie gestured vaguely at her head. Ballister was intrigued. "Wow, sorry to hear that." Amelie shrugged, sitting up. "I barely remember what she was like before the accident. But my aunt does. They were very close. And now..." She sighed, biting her lip. "My aunt is horrible to me. And to my younger brother Ahmad, before he got sent to a knight academy out west." </p><p>"That's terrible," Ballister said sympathetically, starting to feel rather guilty that he hadn't revealed nearly as much as Amelie had. "My father is awful, too," he admitted, "Always gambling, drinking, blowing all our savings. He actually handed me over to the Institution to repay some of his debt." Amelie's jaw dropped. "Really?!" Ballister nodded, picking at the rug with a distant look; "Yeah, it's actually pretty common in this kingdom. The government runs things pretty terribly. People are poor, and they've got to do what they've got to do." "Goodness," Amelie huffed. </p><p>They sat in heavy silence for a moment, reflecting on their lives outside of the Institution. Then Amelie thankfully changed the topic.</p><p>"So. Tell me about your friend," she said with a smile. "Who, you mean Ambrosius?" Ballister asked. She nodded. "Well... he's just... my friend," Ballister faltered. "We've been friends since we were, like, five." "Can I meet him?" Amelie asked, "We can meet at the courtyard if it's nice out." Ballister shrugged. "Sure, I can ask him tomorrow. You guys would probably get along really well." "Great," Amelie said, then she narrowed her eyes. "...As long as he doesn't like Rowling." They snickered.</p>
<hr/><p>The next day came quickly - once lunchtime arrived, Ballister wasted no time in finding Ambrosius and pestering him. "Hey, are you busy?" he asked, practically bursting into the common room. Ambrosius took a bite of his strawberry roll and continued sketching nonchalantly. "Uh, kinda," he replied with a yawn, "Wh-" "That's too bad," Ballister interrupted, grabbing his arm and yanking him off the sofa, "We're going on a walk." "A walk?" Ambrosius repeated, barely having the chance to swallow, "Right now?" "Yes," Ballister replied simply as he dragged him down the hall,  "Now hurry! I have someone for you to meet." </p><p>As they hurriedly crossed the hot, dry Institution grounds, Ballister debriefed him on the situation. "So that's why you kept disappearing during lunch," Ambrosius realized. Ballister laughed. "I didn't think you'd noticed." "Of course I did," Ambrosius said, rolling his eyes. "Okay, wait," he said, slowing down, "So she doesn't know that we're...?" He trailed off. "Nope," Ballister said. "She probably wouldn't care but... a secret's gotta stay a secret, right? So I don't think we should tell her just yet." Ambrosius nodded. "Okay, gotcha. Secrets are secrets."</p><p>By the time they entered the courtyard, Amelie was already there, kneeling in a mossy clearing. As they approached, she squinted up at the two of them. "Hello," she said amicably. "Hi," Ballister said, still a tad breathless from rushing. "Hey," Ambrosius said with a little wave. "Hey," Amelie replied. She kept gazing at them appraisingly, the sun reflecting rainbows off her hijab onto the stone ground. "So," Ballister began after clearing his throat, "Amelie, this is Ambrosius, my-" "Boyfriend," Amelie said, a look of iron certainty in her eyes. "No need to hide. It's obvious." Well then. Ambrosius shot Ballister a look that clearly said, <em>Uh, this wasn't in the script.</em> Ballister was taken aback, but he swallowed hard and said, "W- We're not, uh... Well, we're just-" Amelie stared directly at him. Her stare was too intense; he gave up. "Alright. Yeah, we are." </p><p>Amelie suddenly squealed, pumping her fist in the air. "Yes! I knew it!"  Ballister blinked, realizing. "Wait a second. Were you trying out the Sherlock Holmes method of deduction... in real life?" She nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Couldn't you tell?" Then she gasped, her eyes widening. "Ohmygod, can you imagine if I was wrong? <em>Quelle horreur</em>," she whispered. Then, brightening, she said, "Anyway. That doesn't matter. Sorry about that! I'm Amelie, and it's a pleasure to meet you," she blustered. Ambrosius was thoroughly amused. "No need to apologize," he finally said, "That was fantastic!" She beamed at him. Ballister narrowed his eyes. "So how could you tell?" </p><p>They sat together on the overgrown cobblestones. "Well," Amelie began, "First of all, the way you've been talking about him here and there made it seem like you really cared about him-" "You talked about meeee?" Ambrosius said in a singsong voice, elbowing Ballister in the ribs and batting giant puppy-dog eyes at him. Ballister rolled his eyes, with what appeared to be a hint of a blush appearing in his cheeks. "Quit. Amelie, please go on." "Well, at the time I figured that didn't eliminate the chance of you two being very good friends - but then when I saw you both standing there, it was- it was elementary!" She said this with a self-satisfied flourish of her hands. Ballister raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" "You look so similar in a way," Amelie explained, "Like you've known each other for your whole lives and you've picked up on each other's mannerisms. And then I noticed that your right hand" - she glanced at Ballister - "and your left hand" - she looked over at Ambrosius - "Sort of hang uncomfortably at your sides, almost as if you're really used to holding hands! And that," she concluded triumphantly, "Is how I came to my deduction." "Damn," Ambrosius breathed. "You're good." Amelie shrugged with mock indifference. "It's all about making educated guesses, to be honest. Anyway, I've done it on individuals, but I've always wanted to try it out on a couple!" Then, Ballister asked apprehensively, "So... you're okay with it?" She gave him a look. "Of course I'm okay with it," she said. "What kind of punk would that make me? But don't worry, I won't tell anyone else if you don't want me to," she assured them. At this point, the boys let out a simultaneous exhale of relief. Amelie looked at both their expressions and laughed. "What, did you think I was gonna report you for being a cute couple or something?!" "Well, it's not exactly... encouraged here," Ambrosius explained. At this, Amelie's brows furrowed. "This school is very different from my old school," she remarked.</p><p>The picnics went swimmingly for the rest of the summer, save for the heat and the occasional mosquitoes. They started bringing water, and snacks they'd steal from the Institution kitchens, and Amelie and Ballister would talk about random books for ages with the occasional knightly trivia provided by Ambrosius. </p><p>One shimmery summer day, the trio sat in the clearing eating some craftily-swiped strawberries when Amelie pulled something out of her burlap bag. "I've got something I've been meaning to show you," she said, and pulled out a thickly-wrapped brown paper package. She untied the strings and there sat a copy of The Raven - a book that was, in fact, banned by the Institution. The boys gasped softly. "Whoa," Ballister breathed, "How'd you get this?!" Amelie just smiled her mysterious smile and said, "I brought it in with me. The guards didn't search me nearly hard enough." Looking around surreptitiously, Ballister muttered, "We've got to be careful. If a guard sees this..." "Don't worry, I'm very sneaky," Amelie whispered. They flipped through the book; it had glossy pages and even some original illustrations. Ballister was spellbound. "It's beautiful," he said softly. Amelie smiled. "I want you to have it." Ballister glanced up in disbelief. "Are you serious?" "Yes!" Amelie said warmly. "You can add it to your collection." "That's amazing! Thank you!" Ballister exclaimed, leaning in to hug her; she held out her fist instead. He froze, her fist bumping into his chest, and blushed slightly as he returned the fist bump. Ambrosius snorted. "You're very welcome," Amelie said with a grin. "Sorry," she added in a whisper, "I don't do hugs." Ballister wanted to evaporate right on the spot, but he simply replied, "It's alright, I understand." Thankfully, they thought little more of it for the rest of the afternoon. Right before they split for class, Amelie said in a conspiratorial tone, "Just to play it safe, let's meet in the bookroom next time. We can't let them get too suspicious of us." And so it was decided; they'd meet there.</p>
<hr/><p>"Jeez, since when did this place get so dusty?" Ambrosius sniffed as the boys climbed the long stretch of narrow stairs to the bookroom roughly a week later. "I've had a sneeze coming on for two minutes now." He paused to sneeze, then groaned in frustration when it wouldn't come out. "See what I mean?!" "Oh, it's not that bad," Ballister said quickly, "Come on!"</p><p>When they slid open the door, they were met with... silence. "Hello?" Ballister called out into the sun-filled room. Dust floated in the air, but all else was still. "She's not here," Ambrosius said softly. "Do you think she's running late?" Ballister frowned. "...She's never late," he said grimly. He paused, lost in thought. After a second, Ambrosius poked him gently. "Should we go to the Girls' Wing? Maybe she's there," he suggested. After a deep breath, Ballister nodded. "Yeah, let's go."</p><p> </p><p>Ballister felt a strange sense of dread in the pit of his stomach when they arrived in the Girls' Wing. Something was off, he decided. "Wait here," he said to Ambrosius, and walked over to one of the other girls who stood on the cobblestones, a girl with a nest of frizzy golden hair. When he tapped her shoulder, she whirled around in surprise, revealing crooked teeth. He blanked for a second, then faltered, "Uh, hi. Where's Amelie?" The girl looked him up and down, her brows furrowing at the spectacle of a boy in the girls' courtyard, and asked simply, "You didn't hear?" He shook his head, his concern mounting. "Well," the girl said, "Amelie got force-transferred. Yesterday." Ballister was aghast. "What?!" The girl picked at her cuticle nonchalantly. "...Yep." Still disbelieving, Ballister stammered, "But- But why? She didn't do anything-" "Well, if you must know," the girl said with a sniff of disdain, "The guards found her books and showed them to the Director. When she saw them she had Amelie removed immediately." Ballister's face fell. "No," he whispered. "No way."</p><p>"And if you ask me," the girl continued, her Goldilocks curls bouncing as she spoke, "Anyone with books like those is a threat to the safety of our Institution. Dunno about you, but I'm glad she's gone." "Are you- Are you insane?!" Ballister cried, his eyes blazing with rage, "They're just books, for god's sake!" The girl just squinted at him dispassionately and snapped her gum. Suddenly needing to be alone, Ballister spun on his heel and stormed off. The girl stared after him in wonderment, her lacy tunic rippling in the breeze.</p><p>Ambrosius, who'd been waiting nearby, hurried over to him. "So is she there?" he asked, trying to link his arm in Ballister's as usual. To his surprise, Ballister didn't slow down; he wrested his arm away from him and muttered, "No." Stunned, Ambrosius called after Ballister, "Hey, what happened?" There was no answer; he was already too far away. Ambrosius watched as his boyfriend strode into the Boy's Wing breezeway and disappeared. He blinked a few times, then he noticed the surrounding students staring at him. "He'll be okay," he said to them with a nervous grin.</p>
<hr/><p>Ballister clambered up the steep staircase, clutching The Raven in his arm. In the bookroom, he sat on the window sill with the thin, glossy book in his hands. It was the only one Amelie had left behind. Dejectedly, he stared at the book cover until his vision got blurry. Then he blinked, hastily wiping the tears from the laminated hardcover when they fell. "God dammit," he muttered, sniffling.</p><p>At a light knock on the door, Ballister jumped to his feet, slipping the book behind him. <em>The guards couldn't have tracked me here</em>, he thought apprehensively, <em>Could they?</em> "Come in," he croaked.</p><p>The door whined open, and there stood Ambrosius, who peeked in with a shy smile. </p><p>Ballister exhaled, relieved. "Hey," he said as Ambrosius strode across the room. Hastily, he added, "I'm sorry about earlier." Ambrosius dismissed it with a simple shake of his head, flecks of dust dancing between them in the sunlight. "Don't worry about it," he said simply, and held out his arms. Miserably, Ballister sank into the hug. "I'm sorry about Amelie," Ambrosius told him softly, rocking him back and forth. Feeling another wave of misery, Ballister replied in a weak voice, "So am I." When they broke apart, Ambrosius reached over and felt the silky hair at the back of Ballister's neck. "You okay?" he murmured. Ballister sat back down on the window sill and shook his head. "I just hope <em>she's</em> okay," he mumbled dejectedly. Ambrosius sat down next to him and took his hand. "Aw, man," he said with a wistful smile, "I'm sure she'll pull through. She's pretty strong, isn't she?" Ballister felt a pang at the thought of poor Amelie, separated from her beloved books, being roughly shipped off to some corrective school in the middle of nowhere. He leaned his head on Ambrosius' shoulder. "I guess so."</p><p>The boys never saw Amelie again after that. While the pain of the loss gradually faded as seasons passed and time marched forward, Ballister could only feel his frustration and his mistrust in the Institution grow stronger as the years went by. In retrospect, Ballister thought, that may have been the catalyst - for everything that happened after. Perhaps her name, which he'd later etched on the inner side of his first-ever metal arm, was the seed that sprouted his revolution.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I MADE A TUMBLR FOR MY FANART!! If you like my nimona fanfics you'll probably like my fanart so go check it out @ cori-cadaverish :)) thanks guys i love u all!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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